


La Chenille~A Levi Story

by Shadowbender16



Category: Attack on Titan, Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan, snk - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-26
Updated: 2014-05-11
Packaged: 2018-01-17 04:01:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1373197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadowbender16/pseuds/Shadowbender16
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Levi is a quiet man who enjoys great literature, food, and music, but at the end of each day he realizes he has no one to share it all with. With his parents back in France, no excitement in his life, and a certain fear weighing him down, he's developed a routine; waking up early, dragging himself to work, returning to cook for himself and his messy roommate, if he was up for it, and spending his night sipping tea in dim lighting. It isn't until he's escaped into a certain book and crossed paths with the author behind it that things begin to change. Will he find friendship in the pages of that book? Will he allow himself to love despite knowing he shouldn't? Will he fly?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is not my first fic, but it is my first for SNK. I've been wanting to write something for Levi for the longest time, so here it is. Let's see how it goes. For Heichou! 
> 
> P.S. I do not know French or anyone who speaks it, so I will try my best to keep it as accurate as possible, though sometimes things vary depending on context and all. Main point is that I'll do what I can with the bits I add :)

        She sat, right leg over the left, hunched over slightly with her elbow pivoting against the deep, cherry table. Long, loose curls, deep like rain soaked soil, tickled her round face as she scribbled into the book before her. She took one after the other, what seemed to be an endless conveyor belt of books both paperback and hardcover.  She didn't mind. In fact if one looked close enough they'd notice  her slight bouncing, her excitement, though the only blatant clue that she felt anything in that moment was the dancing of her dangling right foot. The clock ticked. Tick, tick, tick, and tick. She smiled at the approaching young woman, no older than 20, before glancing back at the large security guard set in place, shoulders broad, eyes alert. Scribbling her name after the polite message, she handed the woman her book and greeted the next - a man this time - and stole a peek at the twisted line. Nowhere near as long or dense as the line for a #1 bestselling author, it was massive to her, and although thankful for each individual taking the time to see her specifically, she found herself growing tired, tired of sitting in that uncomfortable metal chair, tired of scratching down variations of the same greeting followed by her own signature, tired of having to interact with strangers she was not comfortable around because of her own anxiety.

        Tilting her head just a bit, she exhaled, pleased to see the line had dwindled. Her back ached, her hand sat on the verge of  cramping, and it took everything in her to control her empty stomach that constantly threatened to groan loudly in hunger. Almost there. She was almost there. Almost free.

 

            "This fucking traffic."

            "You're telling me," the plump cab driver scoffed, head bald, mustache thick. "In a hurry, pretty boy?"

            "Tch, look where we are. Everyone's always in a fucking hurry." He tapped impatiently against the book in his lap.

            "To bad no one ever gets anywhere." The driver glanced in the rearview mirror, eyeing the foreign, dark haired man pressed against the backseat, head thrown back with shut eyes and furrowed brows. He chuckled to himself at his irritation and the way certain words slipped his lips.  

            "Have we even moved in the last ten minutes?" He peeled open his eyes, letting the hardcover slide onto the seat beside him.

            "Not at all, but I get paid regardless. You'll just have to sit tight until the road clears. I can't tell what's holding everything up." He leaned forward, squinting to see up ahead. "Shouldn't you be used to traffic where you're from?"

            "And where exactly am I from?"

            "Not here," he grinned, deciding it'd be best not to guess. "I'm sure we'll be moving again. Like I said, sit tight, pretty boy."

            "I don't have time to sit tight," he sighed, staring at his watch. He lifted his hips, digging through the back pocket of his jeans. "Oi, here." He waved a few green bills beside the driver. "I have somewhere to be. Can't waste my time in shitty traffic no matter how close we've become in the meantime," he sneered before popping open the cab door and hopping out.

            "Hey! Seriously – ugh."

 

            Teal sneakers marched angrily against the sidewalk – or – perhaps not so much out of anger as it was irritation and the fact he really needed to be somewhere. He looked up with dull eyes when thunder rolled through the greying sky. Shitty traffic. Shitty weather.

            "Fantastic." Checking his watch again, he picked up the pace, wondering how fast he could walk without seeming ridiculous, not that he really cared if anyone saw him.

 

            He stepped inside the old bookstore, escaping a whip of lightning and another roll of thunder. The small bell tied to the door jingled, catching the attention of the young worker on his knees slipping books onto a low shelf to the left.

            "Hello," the boy said with a smile, pushing himself to his feet. He brushed unkempt, coffee hair behind his ear. "Anything I can help you with?" He stuffed his hands in his pockets, waiting for a response. The man from the cab faced him, glancing up at bright, teal eyes.

            "I ran my ass down here for the book signing, but it seems like…" He sighed at the empty area.

            "Yeeeaah." The boy rubbed the back of his neck with a sympathetic smile. "You just missed it. They're putting everything away. Sorry."

            "Well isn't that lovely –" He narrowed his eyes at the nametag crookedly pinned to his shirt. "Eren."

            "Shouldn't you know my name by now? You're always creeping around here," he chuckled.

            "I do, but I like making you think you aren't important enough to remember your name, you shitty brat."

            "Calling me names? You're the one showing up to a book signing without a book to have signed, Levi."

            "Eh?" He glanced down and stared at empty hands. Eren tilted his head, concerned for the man who stood there silently staring at his palms.

            "You're kidding me."

            "What is it, Frenchy? Lost your invisible book?" he mustered the courage to say.

            "Keep trying. You aren't funny yet. I must have left it in  the damn cab. It could be anywhere by now. Also, call me Frenchy or make fun of my accent again and I will shove my foot so far up your ass –"

            "All right, all right. You should watch how you talk to me. I can have you thrown out for employee harassment or whatever they call it." Eren returned to his books.

            "Watch yourself, kid."

            "Mmhm. Let me know if you need any help finding something, _Sir._ "

            "Tch…" He shuffled in further, deciding he'd look around while he was here.

 

            Levi found himself before one of the front shelves, something he normally avoided. He wasn't one for popular books, mainly because in recent times the books that seemed to sell the best were ones that read the worst; self-indulgent, poorly written smut and fiction, and the occasional scamming self-help/advice books.

            He glanced to his right out the large glass window. The world had turned charcoal, and rain dropped heavily, the same thunder and lightning accompanying it. He sighed to himself, rubbing the back of his head, the hair much shorter there from the undercut he once decided to try on impulse and ended up loving so much so that he's had the same cut for years, never even considering switching things up. Something flickered behind those eyes of his when he spotted a book; the book. He pulled it from the shelf, cursing under his breath for actually forgetting his copy in the cab. It was so unlike him. He cursed again at the price on the back. Hardcovers sucked to buy, but how worth it they were. He shifted his weight to one leg, casually flipping through the novel he had come to love, enough that he dragged his ass down there for a book signing, as he told Eren. The scent and feel of paper. He stroked his thumb along the edge, enjoying the familiar passage. It was strange for a book like that to sit up front, but he knew it was because the author was visiting – or already visited – for a signing. He sighed again, disgusted with himself and the ridiculous traffic he still hadn't grown to accept despite living in it for years.   

            He nearly fell when a figure suddenly backed into him.    

            "Oi –"

            "Uh – sorry!" A young woman, the bored and hungry book signer from before, faced him with a horrified expression, hands waving frantically before her face. "I'm so – I'm sorry," she said, taking a step back. At least she was polite enough to apologize.

            "It's fine," he mumbled. She rubbed her arm nervously, shifting her weight from leg to leg. Turning away from the book once again, he eyed her. She stood a bit taller, around 5' 4", and she was trim, but with the way she stood timidly, Levi most certainly held the larger presence. He faced her fully now, making it obvious he was looking at her. She returned the look with her own, cautious. He turned to the back cover of the book and then shifted his gaze back to her.

            "Oh?" He turned it so she could see. "That's you."

            "Ah – oh – yes. Yeah, that's me," she laughed softly. "Though, the more I see that picture, the more I'm beginning to hate it. I've been looking at it all day." She shrugged her shoulders.

            "Ah." He nodded in understanding, truly surprised to have run into the very person he was in such a rush to see.

            "Were you here for the signing?" she spoke again, peering over at him. "A lot more people showed up than I thought would, to be honest. I can't really remember," she lied. She would have remembered him. It was impossible to forget those smoldering, dark eyes. They were cold to most, but she saw a fire flickering within, contrasting the pale of his flesh, a top of silky, jet black hair hanging around his face in an undercut she wasn't so sure about but admitted to liking on him. All in all, he was an extremely attractive man – a bit on the short side – but he wasn't some scrawny punk, no. She noticed the way the sleeves of his white button down hugged his upper arms. Be he tall or short, he was fit and filled his clothes nicely. She politely lowered her gaze.   

            "I just missed it actually. Doesn't matter though. I was stuck in a cab for ages and apparently forgot my copy in the backseat. One of those days I suppose," he sighed, shutting the book. He pulled out his wallet, checking to see if he had enough for it. Looking at him briefly, she glanced away in thought, trying to place his accent. It wasn't heavy, his accent, so heavy that she couldn't piece together what he said, but it was certainly noticeable, enough for her to try and guess which European country he hailed from and for Levi to be self-conscious about it from time to time.

            "Hey." She gently took the book from his hand, sliding it back onto the shelf.

            "What are you…" He watched her stroll off to the back, holding up a finger. "Once second."

            "Hmm," he hummed to himself, admiring the design of the old bookstore as he waited.

            "Here."

            "What's this?" He blinked, surprised to see her back so soon. Levi took the book from her.

            "A free copy. I won't let you pay that much no matter how nice hardcovers are."

            "It's not an issue, really."

            "I know, but I have a few copies I brought to this event to give out. If you didn't get it I'm sure someone would have. Besides, traffic, losing your book, and this terrible weather, you earned it."   

            "Thanks…and yeah it is pretty shitty out." He shook his head. She raised an eyebrow at his swearing, amused. "Sorry I missed the signing," he said.

            "Not quite. Come here." She led him to that cherry table, taking the book and flipping it to the blank page.

            "If you have to be somewhere, no worries," he told her, furrowing his brow at his own comment. After all he went through of course he wanted her to sign it. This wasn't the time to be considerate.  

            "I'm just hanging in the back waiting to wrap things up," she said softly, grabbing a pen off the table. She uncapped it and hovered above the page briefly.

            "Um…any specific message?" she inquired, chewing on her bottom lip.

            "Psh, I'll leave that to you. Less work for me."

            "Oki dok. So – what's your name?" She looked up quickly before moving back to the book, waiting for his reply.

            "Levi." She smiled at how he pronounced his name.

            "Levi. L. E. V. I?"

            "Only way I know how to spell it."

            "Same. Ok." She began writing. He folded his arms across his chest after a minute had passed, wondering what the hell was taking so long and cursing himself again, this time for not bringing a jacket. Was he really so excited for the signing that he forgot his book and jacket?

            "Are you writing another novel?" he said, stepping on his toes to see what she was scribbling.

            "Sorry." She faced him with a giggle, pushing a small section of hair from her eyes. "Here you go."

            "Let's see." He held it close, reading out loud.

 

            _Levi,_

_In the future, try not to be late to things. It's rude. Also, don't forget your book because next time I'm not giving you one of my free copies._

_Love,_

_Sabrina_

          He shut the book with laugh. Eren, who had finished stocking and was headed to the counter, faced their direction in horror. Levi not only smiled, but laughed as well. A first for both. The short, bitter, old man stood in the bookshop…laughing. Granted it wasn't a jolly Santa laugh or really even a normal one. It was quiet and controlled, but Eren, unused to even hearing him say one sentence without swearing, took it as a sign that he had finally snapped. He slowly slipped behind the registers and into the back room, convinced he would be having nightmares for a while.

           "Is it all right?" Sabrina asked.

           "It's great – perfect. Thank you."

           "No pr –"

           "Sabrina, could you come?" A tall woman called out, silky, violet hair framing her pointed face.

           "Ah – yes. I'm coming," she replied.

           "Is this where you take your leave?" Levi commented.

           "It seems so. You should probably head home too. The weather's not getting any better. You live close – eh – not that I'm trying to sound creepy or anything…"

           "Somewhat. Though, I think I'll have to walk. The traffic still looks like it hasn't budged," he sighed. "I'm not about to go through that hell again."  

           "How about I help you out," she said.

           "You already replaced my book. What else have you got in there?"

           "A mini umbrella. I have another one at home, and I don't really need it right now. No need to get soaked. Besides, I told you that's the last time I'm giving you a copy. The rain will ruin the book."

           "Tch, hold it over my head for the rest of my life. I forgot it in my rush to get here." He took the umbrella. "Thank you." She nodded, stepping away from the table – but not before stumbling over her own feet and almost falling. She caught herself, shaking it off with a nervous laugh.

           "Long day." She rubbed her face. "But it means the world, to see people who care enough about my book. Thank you, Levi."

           "Sabrina, now!" the same woman called.

           "All right, all right."

           "I'll see you around," he said, loosening the Velcro band of the umbrella.

           "Mmm," she smiled. "It was nice meeting you." With that, she turned on her heels and scurried over to the woman and her tapping foot. Levi turned as well, strolling up to the front counter – the abandoned front counter. He waited approximately fifteen seconds before sighing and tapping the tiny, silver bell smudged in fingerprints. He cringed, aggressively wiping his fingers across his thigh.

           "You finally done?" Eren stepped out, eyeing the man. He sighed, relieved to see Levi wasn't awkwardly smiling or laughing like he had murdered someone and enjoyed it.

           "I'm not buying anything."

           "Why ring the bell? And what's that?" He pointed to the book in hand. Levi glanced down before returning to Eren.

           "A book, dumbass. What's it look like?"

           "Are you planning on walking out without paying?" He crossed his arms.

           "It's my copy."

           "You left yours in the cab."

           "This some sort of interrogation?"

           "Just doing my job."

           "Relax. I bumped into the author. She was still hanging around. She gave me a free copy after hearing about my adventure." He shrugged, waving the book.

           "So that's who had you laughing like a weirdo. All right, I'll let it slide this time," Eren grinned.

           "Oh, while I have you uh…" Levi narrowed his eyes, staring at that crooked name tag again.

           "You know it's Eren!" he huffed.

           "I just like embarrassing you. How are you not used to it, kid?"

           "Humph." He turned his face.

           "I just need a bag. It's pouring out, and I don't want to ruin my book now that I have one again."

           "Would you liiiiiiike," Eren dipped down below the counter briefly, popping up suddenly with a bag in each hand. "Paper or plastic."

           "It's raining. What would you pick?"

           "You know sooner or later you're going to have to start respecting me, Levi," he sighed, handing over the white plastic.

           "What? I asked you a question is all."

           "Yeah right," he muttered. Levi approached the door. It amazed him how,

           "Such shitty weather could wipe away any good feeling." Still, a bit of satisfaction lingered in his heart. To have gone through all that and still not only get the autograph of the author behind the book he could not forget, but chat as well…he was never that lucky. He cringed. Just how much of a fanboy did she see him as? She probably thought his accent was silly. Everyone seemed to.

           "Lighten up, Eric."

           "It's Eren!"

           "Same thing."

           "Noooo. And I'll lighten up when you're tall enough to get on adult rides at the amusement park."

           "N’importe quoi." With that he stepped out into the rain, laughing at Eren, the bookstore employee who stood glaring where he had been standing. He never had a response whenever Levi decided to drop his fancy French.  

           Stuffing the bag under his arm and fighting with the little, black umbrella, he failed to see the puddle up ahead, and of course, splash went Levi. He dropped his arms, catching the bag, and stared dully at the hazy water seeping through his teal sneaker and up the ankle of his jeans.

           "Disgusting."  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for swinging by, reading, and leaving any feedback. Much appreciated. Arigato ^^  
> Facebook.com/Shadowbender16


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Levi is a quiet man who enjoys great literature, food, and music, but at the end of each day he realizes he has no one to share it all with. With his parents back in France, no excitement in his life, and a certain fear weighing him down, he's developed a routine; waking up early, dragging himself to work, returning to cook for himself and his messy roommate, if he was up for it, and spending his night sipping tea in dim lighting. It isn't until he's escaped into a certain book and crossed paths with the author behind it that things begin to change. Will he find friendship in the pages of that book? Will he allow himself to love despite knowing he shouldn't? Will he fly?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is not my first fic, but it is my first for SNK. I've been wanting to write something for Levi for the longest time, so here it is. Let's see how it goes. For Heichou!
> 
> P.S. I do not know French or anyone who speaks it, so I will try my best to keep it as accurate as possible, though sometimes things vary depending on context and all. Main point is that I'll do what I can with the bits I add :)

            He stuffed a hand into that lovely, smoky, leather shoulder bag of his, shuffling around in search of his wallet.

            "Ah," he cheered himself, rising to his feet and heading for the front counter. Levi often spent his Saturdays at this very coffee shop - though he was more of a tea drinker. To be honest he came for the pastries that always seemed to scream at him, begging to be purchased and devoured the second they left the display. What he enjoyed more than the tea, pastries, and that steel legged table with a mosaic top was one of the workers whose eyes lit up whenever he spotted the man.

            "Levi," Armin smiled.

            "Hey, brat," he replied casually, counting the single bills in his wallet.

            "I never understood why you call me that. Isn't that Eren's name?"

            "No, no. You see he's the shitty brat. You're just a brat. Big difference."

            "Oh yeah? All right, if it works for you," he chuckled.

            "You're surprisingly happy. Usually when Eren's in the conversation you start crying about how he got the bookstore job and you ended up here," he grinned.

            "Don't remind me. I've been trying to cope," he sighed.

            "You should have turned in your application with him."

            "I was sick that day, and he was too far away to come get mine!" He flinched, realizing how loud he might have been. He glanced around nervously before returning to Levi. "I felt bad about having him come all the way to my place."

            "Alors quoi? Being nice doesn't always get you places. Besides, it's Eren. Use him like a doormat if you need to."

            "We can't all be brutal like you."

            "Well this brutal man would like that cheese stuffed thing over there. It's calling to me. Throw in another cup of tea, would you?"

            "You'll get fat if you keep eating this stuff."

            "Oi, I don't get fat." He narrowed his eyes, those smoky eyes.  

            "Fine, fine. The customer is always right. It'll be a minute for the tea though. I'll get you a fresh one." The boy handed over the pastry.

            "Much appreciated," Levi said with a nod.

 

            Back against the cool steel chair, he held the book up, thumb stroking the edges, black framed glasses inching down his nose each time he shifted. He sighed deeply, satisfied with the atmosphere, the book, and of course the,

            "Tea?"

            "Hm?" He tore his eyes from the paper, adjusting his glasses as he faced Armin.

            "Your tea, Levi. I said I'd bring you a fresh one, remember?" Armin chuckled, brushing golden locks behind an ear.

            "Oh - ah. Merci," he said softly, thanking him as he gently set it down, the white cup clinking against its matching plate.

            "What's got you so distracted?" the blond inquired, cocking his head to the side while eyeing the book.

            "Just this." Levi stuffed the bookmark in place before shutting the cover. Armin took a moment, making out the title.

            "I thought you read that already. You told me when you first stumbled upon it."

            "I did, but I also stumbled upon the author, and well, I suppose it inspired me to read it again."

            "Oh yeah? Book signing? I think Eren mentioned you were creeping on someone not too long ago."

            "That shitty brat..."

            "It must be pretty special if you're rereading it so soon. I know how picky you can be, Levi."

            "Tsh, say what you will, kid. As picky as I am, I know a good book when I see one, and this," He picked it up, waving it before Armin's large blue eyes. "is a good book. It's been a while since I've been able to escape my shitty life like this."

            "Your life isn't shitty, come on," he cheered him. Levi adjusted his glasses with dull eyes.

            "B-but I can respect good fiction. I've been into nonfiction lately, but it's always nice to escape for a while," he agreed, surprised to see the older man so interested in the book. Levi usually...gave no fucks as some put it. He rarely showed interest, passion, or motivation really, mainly because he was never the most expressive guy around, and there was the fact he had grown used to that mundane life of his, that routine of doing everything the same way each and every day with no excitement save for the little adventures and trouble his roommate caused from time to time.

            "Armin! Where did you go? People need you up here," a cocky, young man called from the counter. Armin flinched at the sound, laughing nervously at Levi.

            "Who the hell is he? I've never seen him."

            "Oh that....that's Jean," he sighed.  "He's worked here for years, mostly nights, but finally got promoted."

            "So he thinks he's the shit?"

            "Pretty much. He's nice, just pushy and whiney sometimes. I've known him since high school. I'm used to it."

            "Don't let the cocky bastard walk all over you. Only I can do that, understand?" Levi grinned, punching his arm jokingly. Armin flashed one last smile before trotting off. Levi retook his former position, back against the chair, book in hand, glasses slithering along the bridge of his nose. He brought the fragile cup to his lips, shutting his eyes as the hot liquid soothed him. He glanced up at the empty seat across from him, sighing at the fact his roommate would never last in a place like this. He was too impatient, too fidgety to enjoy a quiet afternoon in the coffee shop.

            "Tch, moron."

 

            It took everything in his power to resist finishing the book in a sitting or two. He wanted to savor it this time around, to pay attention to style and details he may have overlooked his first time through. He found himself craving it, characters and dialogue constantly running through his mind, keeping him busy through the work day and awake at night. He had something to look forward to, something to plunge - to escape into; something to feel.

            He sat in bed, scarlet sheets pulled up to his waist, book resting in his lap. He couldn't stay up late, not again. He would surely regret it tomorrow. He let go with a sigh, resting his head back against the pillow, brows furrowed at the noisy television in the other room.

            "What the hell is he always watching at this time?" he muttered, adjusting his legs. The book tipped and the pages fluttered shut, save for the front cover which hung there, bobbing slightly. He brushed his fingers along the dark ink of her signature, eyeing the handwriting that seemed a bit too messy for a woman with hands as delicate as hers.

            "Tch..." What was this? What was this longing that had been gnawing at him since the book signing? Perhaps it was a longing for friendship, for a relationship with someone other than his messy roommate he had become quite fond of despite the horrid messes he made.  She was a writer, the woman behind the book that consumed him. Just who was she to create something that had him so…obsessed?

            "Merde…" He rubbed his face. He really was a sad, little fanboy who chased her down for an autograph. He set the book on the bedside table and turned off the lamp with a disgusted grunt. Levi fawning over someone?

            "Ridiculous."

 

            "Oi, wake up," he sighed, flicking on the lights, yanking up the blinds, and ripping the covers from the sleeping young man.

            "Levi, whyyyyy?"

            "Your snoring is pissing me off. Besides you have work," he said. The other rolled over in bed for a glance at the small blue lit alarm clock.

            "Yeah I do...in two hours, asshole. Why are you here? Don't you have to go be rude and short somewhere else?"

            "Keep up this shitty behavior and you'll be living on the streets."

            "Me? Shitty behavior? You're the one who pretends not to know me in public." He folded his arms behind his head, sinking further into the mattress.

            "T’es vraiment qu’un pauvre enfoiré," he scoffed, yanking away the rest of the covers.

            "Mmm, I have no idea what you say when you get all foreign on me. If it helps, bonjour, Levi. Lovely morning."

            "Do not try to speak my language. You sound ridiculous." The ebony haired man curled his lip with a roll of his eyes.

            "Jee, thanks. You thinking you can reach the top shelf in the kitchen without that cute little stool of yours is what's ridiculous," he smirked. Levi nodded gently to himself before flashing his roommate a dangerous look.

            "Keep digging your grave. In the meantime, I'll be at work thinking of ways to kill myself without making a huge mess. And speaking of messes, clean this room and whatever dishes you left in the sink."

            "What dishes!"

            "I'm not deaf. I hear you making snacks and messing around in the kitchen every night after 12."

            "But –"

            "Oi, do what I said and no one dies. I clean my shit, so you clean yours."

            "All right. Fair enough," he sighed. Levi left the room, ready to head out. "Let me know how the suicide plan goes. Maybe I can help you brainstorm."

            "You would actually need a brain for that," he called out. "Try not to burn the place down. I happen to like this apartment."

            "Yeah! Whatever!" he huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "Ugh, he drives me nuts!" He sat up, tugging at messy, brown hair. "I'll show him. One of these days. Just you wait, Levi."

           

             "Mmm, Levi, those bags under your eyes are looking especially terrible today."

            He paused in the doorway, releasing an exhausted sigh.

            "Thank you, Hanji." He shuffled over to his office, clenching his jaw when she followed. He didn't have a problem with her, or anyone at the company really, but they seemed to know too much about each other's lives outside of the office, something that always left him feeling uncomfortable and smothered. He did his best to avoid sharing too much, not that he had much going on in the first place. She didn't need to know about his late night reading adventures and possible infatuation with the author. He cringed at the thought.

            "Yes?" He glanced up at her.

            "There's a problem."

            "Problem? With what?" He set his bag down on the small, oak desk.

            "You're not going to like it, art boy. Erwin saw your early drafts for your most recent project."

            "I sure as hell hope so. I left them with him for a reason."

            "No, no. No taking it out on me, tiny one," she teased, waving a manila folder. "I'm just the messenger. Do not strike me down!" She bounced as she spoke, almost knocking off her own glasses with a wave of her arm.

            "All right, just get to the problem."

            "Not good enough. He wants new ones."

            "Huh?" He set his hands on his waist, nails digging into his hips.

            "He doesn't like where you took it. He wants new drafts by Friday."

            "Where is he to tell me this?"

            "A meeting. You know he's too important for us," she laughed. "So new ideas. Make them good or your French ass is out of here."

            "From scratch? Redo the entire thing? I spent hours on those – I was fucking miserable. I didn't even want this project. He dumped it on me when a better one came along."

            "Well that's what you can do when you're in his position."

            "I swear…" He unbuttoned his pea coat while mumbling a few profanities in his native tongue. "I'm not sure if I like or hate him sometimes."

            "He's complicated but gets the job done. Could be worse!"

            "I doubt it."

            "Well I'm sure you'll do fine. You are the best artsy and graphic designy guy here, so if you mess it up again, well then there's no hope for this project. Also, the site needs updating. You were supposed to link it to all the social media stuff. We're nothing if people can't find us on Twitter!" She held her sides in a fit of laughter, mainly because the look on his face was simply too good to ignore. "Good luck, Levi!" She waved playfully before skipping off.

            He dropped into the red, suede chair, leaning forward on the desk, face buried in his hands.

            _'Start from scratch, huh? Piece of shit Erwin…and I forgot my lunch…'_ Mustering what strength and motivation he might have left, Levi shifted, aiming to start working and finish what he had to for Erwin. The only thing driving him was the promise of reading his book the second he finished.

             Sick of work, sick of home, and sick of pretty much everything else the world had to offer, Levi found himself in one of the only two places he tolerated enough to visit frequently; the tiny, little coffee shop.

            He sat hunched over in the same steel chair at the same round table, book spread out before him, glasses sliding down his face – only this time he didn't bother adjusting them because he really wasn't reading.

He sat, fighting the urge to drop his head and sleep right then and there. He managed to finish what Erwin wanted and more, but it took a toll on him. He thought tea and taking it easy would improve his mood, but how wrong he was. Despite the possibility of passing out in his seat, he couldn't leave. Not yet. How could he when a large slice of fudge cake still sat on its yellow plate untouched and begging for him?

Stealing a glance at the dessert seemed to trigger his love for sweets, enough that he sat upright, grabbed the fork from his left, and dug in, of course not before aggressively wiping down the utensil with the folded white napkin. He never fully trusted silver or glassware other than his own. Sure they looked clean enough, but were they really?

            He hummed in delight at the warm fudge. He was still pissed at Erwin of course, not that that was something new, and there was no denying he would fall asleep on his apartment floor the second he got home, but the cake did help a little, enough to help him enjoy this time he had to himself. The people were awfully loud today. That of course didn't help his headache. Then again trying to read wasn't the smartest idea either. Stuffing another chunk of cake between those peachy lips, he casually shifted his gaze around the shop, briefly pausing at the front counter. He moved to break another piece of cake when he snapped his head back to the front, brows high, eyes wide.  

            "Oh mon Dieu..."


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Levi is a quiet man who enjoys great literature, food, and music, but at the end of each day he realizes he has no one to share it all with. With his parents back in France, no excitement in his life, and a certain fear weighing him down, he's developed a routine; waking up early, dragging himself to work, returning to cook for himself and his messy roommate, if he was up for it, and spending his night sipping tea in dim lighting. It isn't until he's escaped into a certain book and crossed paths with the author behind it that things begin to change. Will he find friendship in the pages of that book? Will he allow himself to love despite knowing he shouldn't? Will he fly?

           Flipping open the flap of his bag, he frantically searched for that black glasses case of his, only instead of slipping of his frames and putting them away upon discovery, he snapped open the case and stole a peek at the tiny rectangular mirror inside, checking his teeth for any remains of the chocolate cake he was in the process of massacring. Before he could review the pros and cons of his next action, Levi found himself up on his feet, maneuvering between the tables of the coffee shop, rapidly approaching the figure.

 

            _Don't do it, Levi._

_Stop._

_Are you insane?_

_Pathetic._

 

            He ignored the last attempt of the voice in his head and extended his arm, tapping her on the shoulder with a single finger.

            "Sorry, did I bump into –" She fell quiet, eyes resting on the shorter man, blinking in disbelief.

            "Levi?"

            _'Shit, she remembered me – wait, she remembered me.'_

"Long time no see," he said, praying he looked and sounded as cool as he felt.

            "I didn't expect to see you again, but I guess you did say you live around here after all. Sorry, I remember small details like that. Of course I forget the important stuff." Sabrina scratched her forehead with a chuckle.

            "Are you back in town, or you just never left?" he inquired.

            "Back in town?"

            "Don't think I'm some sort of creep, but the author biography section in your book says you're from –"

            "Oh that's where I grew up and all. My parents still live there, but I came here for college and stayed for work. I just got used to it, you know. It's home." She shrugged, almost dropping the cup of hot chocolate in her hands.

            "I see, I see."

            "Are you here a lot? This place is so nice."

            "I try to come every Saturday. You?"

            "First time. I heard someone mention it at work, so I thought I'd go on a little adventure. It sure gets busy, huh?" she commented, cringing at all the people, one in particular who made it their life goal to slip through the space between her and the table. Levi couldn't help but snicker under his breath.

            "If you don't want to leave or deal with all these morons you can sit with me. I was only cooling off."

            "Mmm, I guess for a bit. I don't have much planned for today. Thanks." She followed him over, taking the empty seat, wondering why she had agreed so easily. Normally people left her feeling uneasy, something about the way they expected eye contact the entire time and lacked a regard for personal space. The fact she spent nights watching Criminal Minds and Hannibal didn't help her natural distrust of people either. She always justified her fear claiming _one could never be too careful. There are sickos everywhere._ As direct as Levi had just been, popping out of nowhere and offering his table, she couldn't help but give in to him. Surely she'd scold herself at home for falling for a ruse as generic as that; a charming, attractive man who knew just what to say to get her heart up.

            _'You won't like him so much when he has you tied and stuffed in his trunk.'_

            If only Levi knew he was a charming and attractive man who seemed to be saying all the right things. He sat stiffly in his chair wondering,

            _'Why the fuck did I just do that? If she didn't think I was a fanboy before, I sure as hell just messed that up.'_ It took everything in him to resist slamming his face against the table. He rarely acted on impulse like that, ironic for a guy dealing with a mild case of OCD, but whenever he did, oh the messes it resulted in. His roommate was one example.

            "You wear glasses?" Sabrina pulled him out of his thoughts.

            "When I feel like it."

            "When you…feel like it?" She gave him a look, setting her cup down.

            "I get headaches when I read sometimes or when I'm on the computer. These help," he explained. Feeling her burning gaze, he peered at her from the corners of his eyes.

            "What?"

            "You're not a hipster are you? Wearing glasses like those and living in coffee shops…"

            "What – no – are you serious?" he snapped, obviously offended. She shook her head with a laugh.

            "Just making sure! I can't be around someone who's constantly snapping photos of their lattes or whatever."

            "I don't even drink coffee. I like tea. Coffee tastes like mud. Even the smell of that shit makes my stomach churn." He removed the glasses, putting them away in their case.

            "Oh? Something we have in common then. I don't mind tea, but it's not something I drink on a daily basis. I'm happy with hot chocolate," she grinned, stealing a sip. He slipped the case back into his bag before shifting the plates in front of him. He nudged his book gently, instantly regretting drawing attention to it.

            "Is that mine?" she spoke.

            "Eh – yeah, it is."

            "By mine I mean the one I gave you, or did you lose that one too?" she laughed, reaching over for it. "Nope, it's mine. Good job. Who knows, maybe my signature will be worth something someday."

            "If you keep writing books like this, it shouldn't be long."

            "Ah – thanks," she mumbled coyly. "I doubt it. It's not like some big publishing house picked me out of a bunch. I'm self-published, meaning I have a lot more blood, sweat, and tears to shed before I'm even remotely famous – not that fame is the sole reason I'm writing. I write because I love it more than anything, but you know, having your name out there and a dependable income is also nice." She swished the contents of her cup as she spoke.

            "I know I said it last time we met, Levi, but thanks for supporting this project."

            "There's a reason I'm rereading it," he stated casually.

            "You are?"

            "Yes, and if you lose my bookmark I'll kill you."

            "You liked it that much?" She returned it to him.

            "I guess, yeah." He nervously picked at the front cover. "I like books I can escape into, and it's the first one that's allowed me that in a while. Whether you choose to believe it or not, this shit is great."

            "Well thanks for liking my shit – eh – wait." She wrinkled her nose.

            "No worries, I get it," he chuckled, deciding to finish his cake. "So you came here for school?"

            "Mhm," she nodded. "Studied education. I know being a teacher means a lot of work for a terrible amount of pay, but I'm good with kids. It's not too hard to find a job – at least it wasn't for me. Call me old fashioned, but I think it's a good job for a girl, you know. Plus I get the summer off."

            "What grade?"

            "Third. Sometimes I love it, sometimes I wish I chose something else because as good as I am with kids, I can't hit them if they aren't my own."

            "Jeez."

            "I'm not abusive, but I believe in punishment. Standing in the corner accomplishes nothing."

            "Did your parents hit you?"

            "Yeah."

            "Mine too. I agree, don't get me wrong, it just sounds bad," he grinned. "So you're working then? How old are you?"

            "Yeah I have been for a little while now. I'm 25."

            "Oh wow," he expressed, figuring the difference in years between them.

            "Why?" She furrowed her brow. "How old are you?"

            "How old do you think? Take a guess."

            "Why?"

            "Because guessing my age should be a sport or something. It drives people fucking crazy."

            "Hmmm." She stroked her chin, taking in every bit of him. He couldn't be that old, could he? In those acid wash jeans and black button down with the sleeves rolled up. He was edgy, in some aspect, with his jet black hair and sharp undercut. He wore a young face, a face that so far aged gracefully, save for the few tiny lines near his eyes.

            "I want to say around my age, maybe 26-ish?"

            "Guess again."

            "Gah! I mean you could totally pass for a high school senior if you dressed the part, but you seem too mature for that. Younger than 26?"

            "I'm 33." He ate another forkful of cake.

            "There's no way in hell you're 33."

            "You've been having lunch with an old man, Sabrina."

            "33 isn't old really, but you don't look it."

            "I'm flattered, but I'm also what, eight years older than you?"

            "I…" She counted on her fingers. She caught him eyeing her with a grin. "I'm not good at math. Never was. Don't judge me."

            "I'm not. Don't worry."

            "33, huh? Who'd a thunk? You really don't look it." She regretted saying it again out of embarrassment. Luckily he didn't seem to mind or think much of it.

            "You don't look like you're 25," he said.

            "No?"

            "Younger."

            "Oh." Her shoulders fell.

            "Maybe it's because most of the 25-year-olds I've known were all burned out from college and suffered liver damage from all the shitty alcohol they used to self-medicate. Who knows?"

            "Oh that's awful," she said with a cringe.

            "Their fault, not mine." He ate another bite.

            "So, Levi…I hope you're not offended, but it's been driving me nuts since we met at the bookstore."

            "I'm 5' 2"," he said. "5' 3" when I wear my good shoes."

            "Eh – that's not what I was going to ask, but really?" She leaned closer, looking him up and down as if that'd confirm his height.

            "I know, but I thought I'd throw that out there in case the suspense was killing you. What's your awkward question then?"

            "Your accent. I took French all four years of high school, and while I can't speak it even if my life depended on it, I know it when I hear it, and I've heard the accent enough. Just curious if I was right or horribly wrong." She bit her bottom lip to keep from rambling anymore. He chuckled softly before turning to her.

            "Vous avez raison, mon ami," he said, taking a sip of his tea only to wrinkle his nose at how cold it was. It took her a minute.

            "All I got was mon ami. Something my friend."

            "Vous avez raison. _You are right_."

            "I knew it. That's awesome. Say it again," she urged.

            "What?"

            "What you said. I want to hear it."

            "Vous avez raison, mon ami?" He cocked his head to the side, watching her eyebrows knit together as she thought, or at least he hoped that's what she was doing.

            "Vous avez raison, mon ami…" She glanced up horrified when the words left her lips.

            "Oh?" He shifted in the chair with a smirk. "Not bad, your pronunciation."

            "Seriously? I felt like I slaughtered it." She scratched her forehead.

            "Almost, but I've heard worse. You're definitely better than my shit roommate. I'll give you that."

            "Well it's not like they taught it seriously in high school or I have someone teaching me."

            "I could." And there it was, that familiar heat of embarrassment and _why the fuck did I do that_ crawling up Levi's spine. He didn't regret his offer. He just wondered where the hell all these random ass urges were coming from.

            "Teach me? Really?" She sat up straight. Levi took another swig of tea, forgetting it was iced tea at this point.

            "If you care enough to learn, why not?" He shrugged. "But I'm not easy, or patient, or even that nice really."

            "Trying to scare me off?"

            "Is it working?"

            "Not really."

            "Merde…fine. I'll teach you. Maybe you'll be a prodigy I can take pride in. Who knows?"

            "Say, Levi," she started, eyes on her own hands. "Are you busy? Like normally, your schedule I guess."

            "If I'm not at work bitching about everyone, I'm at home bitching about my roommate. And if I'm not at either of those two places, I'm here secretly bitching about all these morons." He glanced at the other customers.

            "So if I ask you to go somewhere I won't be interfering?"

            "Probably not." He watched as she dug through her purse, raising an eyebrow when she faced him with a small envelope.

            "You know that big bookstore that's supposed to open? It's up a few blocks from here," she said.            

            "The one that will have a coffee shop that will be overrun by obnoxious teenagers and college students thinking they're the shit because they dropped $7 on a cup of coffee? Yes. Why ask?"

            "It's opening Thursday night. Weird, I know, but the following Friday there's this little event going on. I don't know, they're hosting something for new writers and I was invited. I was told I could bring someone along. I don't really know anyone – or well I do, but they wouldn't really like something so literary and artsy I suppose. I thought you seem to appreciate that stuff." She handed him the card.

            "It's Friday at seven, I believe. It's a little dressy. Some nice pants and button down would be fine, like office clothes – that's if you're coming. I thought I'd ask." She had been dreading the event. Being quite the introvert, parties and gatherings made her anxious and left her drained. She hadn't planned on asking anyone or even going herself, but running into Levi…she couldn't help but wonder if he'd be just a tiny bit interested. Dragging him along would be interesting indeed.

            She looked up when he slipped the invitation between the pages of his book.

            "It's not like my schedule book is dripping with appointments. Besides, if there's food…" He glanced over at her.

            "I'm pretty sure there will be food of some sort."

            "Good. Then you've got yourself a guy to sulk in public and quietly judge others with."

            "Really? Seriously?" She gripped the edge of the table in excitement.

            "Do you want me to change my mind? You need to stop asking after I've made a decision," he sighed.

            "It's a habit. I'm too nice I guess. I hate being an inconvenience or burden."

            "You're fine. Relax. So we'll meet where you had the book signing? We leave from there at 6:30 this Friday?"

            "Yeah, that sounds great." She zipped her purse. Levi stared off for a moment in thought, a finger running along the edge of the hardcover book.

            "You should consider yourself lucky," he finally spoke, slipping the book into his bag. "I don't normally make plans all of a sudden with people I barely know. In fact, I don't even make plans with people I do know…or treat them like decent human beings for that matter."

            "Lucky huh? I guess. A reader of my book, French teacher, and possibly a….friend?" She tilted her head. Levi watched with bored eyes.

            "Mon ami, mon ami," she said with a wiggle of her eyebrows.

            "Tch." He looked away with a grin. "Sure. I can tolerate you."

            "I'm flattered," she giggled.

            "I hate to end our little session, but I have to get going. Besides, it's not so early anymore, meaning all the punk ass kids are going to start filing in."

            "No worries. I have things to grade too." She rose to her feet with Levi following.

            "Friday then?"

            "Yup. Thanks so much for coming. I'm sure it'll be interesting."

            "Hn, we'll find out."

            "See you later, Levi."

            "Au revoir."

 

             After a jiggle of the knob, a hard kick, and another jiggle, Levi finally stepped into the apartment, almost tripping over the small bump on the floor beneath the door.

            "You could have knocked. I would have opened it."

            "Yeah, like you didn't hear me fighting with the lock five seconds ago," he spat, eyeing his roommate who lounged comfortably across the sofa. "Besides, I didn't expect you to get off your fat ass for me."

            "My ass is not fat. It's cute."

            "Tch, if you say so – and what the hell?" He bent over, picking up and dangling a pair of muddy sneakers, his fingers like hooks.

            "My shoes."

            "Mud? In my apartment? On these floors? You're fucking kidding me." He started for the kitchen, swinging open a lower cabinet and pulling out the trash bin.

            "Whoa, Levi! Wait! What are you doing?" He sat up with wide eyes.

            "I told you I don't care what you do so long as you keep shit clean. Is it that hard to wipe off your damn feet before jaunting around in here?"

            "I left them by the door –"

            "Bullshit."

            "Levi, I just bought those. It hasn't even been two months! Let me enjoy my shoes," he sobbed, tugging at his brown waves. Levi sighed, sending the trash bin back with a tap of his knee.

            "I'm in a good mood, so clean your mess and your shoes, and you'll live. You should do something about the smell. Your feet must sweat like crazy." He walked over, dropping the shoes before him.

            "I got it! I'll put that foot powder stuff and put them on the balcony for a bit."  
            "Good boy." He yawned deeply with a stretch of his arms, shutting his eyes as he popped a few buttons of his shirt.

            "Why in a good mood? Can't be work? Don't tell me you're wasted?"

            "Do I look drunk, you ass-hat? I don't drink."

            "Yeah well Levi and good mood don't really work together. Can't blame me for asking."

            "It's nothing. Just a relaxing time at the shop."

            "Right, right." He rose to his feet. "I should head out."

            "You work today?" Levi glanced up in surprise.

            "Yeah. I picked up Marco's shift, remember. He had something going on, so I said I'd cover."

            "Oh."

            "Why?"

            "I was going to cook something. That dish you like, but it's whatever. I'm too tried to even try." He waved it off.

            "Maybe Monday."

            "I don't want to make it that fucking bad. Your loss, brat."

            "Hn, fine. I'll be back tonight."

            "I sure hope so. What would I do with all your crap? It's not even worth selling." Levi crossed his arms.

            "Just try not to be so miserable without me. I know I mean everything to you."

            "Yeah, yeah."

            "See ya," he said with a wave, grabbing his wallet off the glass top coffee table before strolling out. Levi watched the door shut, the clicking of the lock loud in his ears. He stood alone in his apartment, alone in that silence, that solitude he knew all too well. His eyes fell on his open shoulder bag, on the top corner of the book that peeked out. For the first time in a very long while he felt excited, anxious, self-conscious, all at once and all because some awkward school teacher turned author invited him to a random gathering at the new bookstore; because he had met someone outside of work and old projects; because he had made a friend.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for swinging by, reading, and leaving any feedback. Much appreciated. Arigato ^^  
> Facebook.com/Shadowbender16


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